


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by naeblis



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naeblis/pseuds/naeblis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kill or be killed." The words Líriel lives by. But her latest task has her wondering if some things are worth the sacrifice. Can she redeem herself before it's too late? And will she obtain forgiveness from those she grew to love?</p><p>Set in the timeline of the books. This story is somewhat AU in that elves can have casual sex. Eventual Haldir/OC, but be warned - it'll take a little while to get there. This is not really a tenth walker story, although it might seem that way in the beginning.</p><p>I am reposting this, because I realized shortly after posting the third chapter that it wasn't going to work and I'd have to rewrite it completely. I'm satisfied with it this time though!</p><p>Tolkien didn't give us words for female and male elves, and I find the terms ellon/elleth to be jarring in some contexts. So in this story I'll be occasionally using man/woman and boy/girl to refer to elves as well as Men. When I'm talking about humans specifically, the word Man will be capitalized. But for the most part, you already know what races the characters are. And I mean, they are all humanoids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stranger

_"Kill or be killed." The words Líriel lives by. But her latest task has her wondering if some things are worth the sacrifice. Can she redeem herself before it's too late? And will she obtain forgiveness from those she grew to love?_

_Set in the timeline of the books. This story is somewhat AU in that elves can have casual sex. Eventual Haldir/OC, but be warned - it'll take a little while to get there. This is not really a tenth walker story, although it might seem that way in the beginning._

_I am reposting this, because I realised shortly after posting the third chapter that it wasn't going to work and I'd have to rewrite it completely. I'm satisfied with it this time though!_

_Tolkien didn't give us words for female and male elves, and I find the terms ellon/elleth to be jarring in some contexts. So in this story I'll be occasionally using man/woman and boy/girl to refer to elves as well as Men. When I'm talking about humans specifically, the word Man will be capitalized. But for the most part, you already know what races the characters are. And I mean, they are all humanoids._

* * *

The room was dark save for the dwindling fire that still crackled in the grate. By the window stood an elf, looking out at the cold night sky. Behind him, in the center of the room, knelt another elf. Her hands were clasping a talisman she wore around her neck.

"Are your preparations complete?" he asked softly.

"Yes, my Lord," replied the girl, without looking up.

"I hope you are. This will not be like your previous assignments. The nobles of Rivendell will be much, much more cunning than your average tribe-chief. The slightest mistake, and... "

The girl glanced at him then.

"I understand. I will not fail."

Her voice was cold, but he appeared not to notice her tone. He continued as if she had not spoken at all.

"There is one more thing I feel I should mention. Being around others of our kind may... give rise to disloyal thoughts. It would not be strange for you to feel some curiosity. However, you must be aware at all times of the bond that is upon you. If you should find yourself feeling overly friendly towards those you meet, you need only look at the band around your neck. Hopefully that will remind you of your duties before it is too late."

He grinned idly. "I would hate to lose one that I have spent so much time on."

"I understand, my Lord. I have no intention of breaking my bond. I know what consequences await me if I do. Believe me, I will carry out this task to the best of my abilities." She seemed sincere then, even if her voice still betrayed her disdain.

"Good. Do not disappoint me."

* * *

It was a cool autumn day in the forests south of Rivendell. Líriel approached their borders with some caution. She had learned that the Lord of Rivendell usually at least granted strangers an audience, but many years had passed since her Master had formed these conclusions. Who knows what might have changed since then? " _It would be ironic if, after all my years of training and preparation, I am killed before I even enter the city limits,_ " she thought wryly.

Still, now she was here - there was nothing for it but to try and see. She glanced down at herself briefly and confirmed that her pack wouldn't hinder her from drawing her weapons, and then, sighing heavily, she walked into the forest.

She didn't have to go far before the inevitable confrontation. With no warning, a group of elves emerged from the trees and surrounded her. Her hands flew to the hilts of her swords before her brain had time to override that reflex.  _That will not do. These ones will not be persuaded by the threat of violence. I must convince them diplomatically._

She forced herself to raise her hands. Glancing around, she quickly made an accounting of her potential assailants. Five men, four of them currently pointing bows at her with arrows nocked. They were all wearing silver armour that was clearly of elven make. The fifth, presumably the leader, approached her with one hand resting on the sword at his waist.

"Hail traveller. I am Elrohir of Rivendell, and Captain of the Border Guard," he began, eyeing her warily.

"In these times, we must be wary of strangers who appear in our woods, even those of our own kin. Who are you and what brings you to cross our borders?"

_Elrohir? As in the son of Elrond?_

Líriel raised her hand to her chest in a gesture of respect.

"Hail Elrohir of Rivendell," she said in a clear voice, "I am Líriel and I hail from the Firien Wood. I am a messenger, come with tidings for the Lord of Rivendell regarding enemy movements in the South."

"I have never heard of any elven settlement in the Firien Wood," said Elrohir.

Líriel was prepared for this. "My home could hardly be called a settlement. There are only a few of us now. We live mostly in isolation, but the recent activity around Mordor has us under threat. That is why I am here - to share information and ask for advice."

Elrohir frowned. "And you made this long journey alone? That is a long and dangerous trek to make by yourself."

"We couldn't afford to send a larger group. The rest of my folk are needed to keep our home safe, and of all of us, I have the most experience of dealing with strangers. I am one of only two that speaks the Common language. It is a great cost to our settlement to spare even just myself, but we had no other choice. It is our hope that, in return for the information we provide, the Lords of Rivendell might be able to give us some counsel regarding the defence of our own home."

_Was that too rehearsed?_

Elrohir stared at her for a few moments, and then seemed to come to a decision. He turned to his guards, who were watching silently.

"I will escort the lady to Rivendell myself. The rest of you may return to your patrols."

The guards nodded and silently disappeared into the trees.

"Shall we?," said Elrohir, indicating that he and Líriel should head into the forest. She followed him without comment.

"Rivendell is not far from here - we should reach it by sundown if we keep a good pace."

Líriel did not respond. She was preoccupied with her surroundings. The forest seemed far more alive than any wood she had ever visited before. She reached out to touch the bark of a weathered oak tree, and was surprised to hear what sounded like a voice murmuring quietly. Jumping back, she turned to Elrohir.

"I'm sorry my Lord, did you say something?"

He glanced at her quizzically. "That was the tree you heard, not I."

"The tree?"

"Yes. Do the trees of Gondor not speak?"

Líriel wasn't sure how to reply. Trees talking was not something that been covered in her lessons with Sainor.  _I've been here hardly five minutes and already I'm out of my depth._

She forced a neutral expression to her face. "Perhaps many years ago, when the land was still light of heart and the forests were full of life, but I have never known the trees there to speak. Perhaps it was the darkness of Mordor that stilled their voices."

"Indeed, perhaps."

They continued in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. She glanced over at him at length, to find him staring curiously at the swords that hung at her waist.

"Has staring at my weapons given you any answers, my Lord?"

He grinned, as if he was unashamed to be caught staring, "No indeed. I must confess that they have left me even more perplexed. I have never met anyone like you. Not just those swords. Your appearance, your garb… all very mysterious. But I shall not tire you with endless questions. You must be weary from your journey here, and my father will doubtless wish to have an audience with you as soon as we arrive. I'm sure my curiosity will be settled then."

"Your father?"

"Yes, my father is Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell."

Líriel grinned inwardly.  _So I was correct. This opportunity is a gift._

"Ah, then I was correct in addressing you as a lord," she said, trying not to sound too interested.

"You will find that we are quite informal in Rivendell. I am known as Elrohir, and nothing more," he told her, matching her bland voice with a blandness in his own. "It seems as though you have not visited Rivendell before, or am I mistaken?"

"You guess correctly. I have spent most of my life thus far living in the forests of Gondor. Most of my contact with strangers has been with traders in the towns of Men. In fact, I have probably met more Edain than Eldar in my life. I'm looking forward to seeing how more of my kin live."

"I can understand that," he said, giving her a friendly smile. "If you like, I could tell you a little about the history of Rivendell as we walk."

 _Yes_! "That would be very agreeable, my Lord," she said, suppressing her enthusiasm.

"Elrohir," he corrected firmly, before launching into a thorough history of his city.

Their trek through the woods passed in this way. Líriel focused intently, carefully sifting through the information and mentally filing away useful facts for later perusal. She also took the opportunity to observe the elf more closely. He was dark-haired, like her, but had a fair complexion that was a stark contrast to her own tanned, weathered skin.  _Of course he finds me strange._

At a suitable pause in the conversation, she took the opportunity to ask a question.

"Tell me, is Rivendell solely a home for the elven-kind? Do no other races live here?"

"That is correct, at least for most of our history. Recently my father took in a halfling as his guest, but other than this, Rivendell is home to only the Eldar. Why do you ask?"

"I am used to living close to Men, and I wondered if it was similar here."

He seemed to accept this, and shortly resumed his histories, but this time Líriel didn't pay as much attention. She was pondering the implications of his words. The man she sought was supposed to live in Rivendell. Sainor had never been wrong before. Was this guard lying to her? That would be make sense.  _For this man to be worth sending me all the way across half the continent, he would certainly have to be very valuable. Perhaps they're aware that he is a target and hide his presence from outsiders._

Eventually they rounded a bend, and suddenly there it was before them, nestled into a valley - "The Last Homely House East of the Sea," Elrohir remarked to Líriel.

She stood completely still, staring down at the valley below her. She was at a loss for words. Her first glimpse of an elven city and it was beautiful beyond compare.

"Yes, Rivendell does often have that effect on visitors," remarked Elrohir with amusement. "It is beautiful, is it not?"

She suddenly remembered his presence. "Y-yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes indeed. It is very beautiful."

 _It is unlike me to stumble over words._  But arriving here - seeing the city - had brought home the magnitude of the task that was in front of her. This would be far more difficult than anything she had done before.

As they approached the courtyard that marked the entrance to the city proper, Líriel realised that there was already a small party of people waiting for them. They walked through the archway and she saw that there were three people waiting for them. One who was identical Elrohir _\- that must be his twin, Elladan_. In the middle stood one who radiated age and wisdom, despite looking no older than a Man of sixty years.  _And that must be Lord Elrond._  On Elrond's other side stood an elf-maiden who was the most beautiful woman Líriel had ever seen.  _Arwen Undómiel_.

Elrohir immediately moved forwards to greet the group. "Ah, good day father," he said jovially. "I see that you have been forewarned of our arrival."

Elrond ignored him and turned to Líriel, who was waiting with trepidation. He raised his hand to his chest in a gesture of friendliness.

"It is rare indeed for us to receive strangers here in Rivendell. And at this particular time… that is very interesting to me. Tell me of yourself," he said in a friendly voice, although Líriel perceived that he was very likely more suspicious than he seemed. She immediately launched into a description of herself, naming all of the things she told Elrohir earlier. Elrond observed her with interest, but did not interrupt her. When she was finished, he nodded slowly, and appeared to be pondering something.

"I have not heard of elves living in the Firien Wood before, but it does not surprise me. When the people of Edhellond sailed West, some that wished to remain travelled east and settled here and there. It is not unheard of for small groups of elves to be living in isolation, even in these dangerous days."

Elrond smiled at Líriel with something that seemed like kindness. She was uncertain of what to say. He was a lot less grim and stern than Sainor had led her to believe. Elrond leaned forward suddenly and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Come, come! Any information you have to share with us will be welcome indeed. Oft does help come from unexpected quarters! But not tonight, for I perceive that you are weary from your travels, and need rest. You may stay in Rivendell for as long as you wish, and I will endeavour to advise you on your troubles - although I fear that I cannot bring you much comfort. But that can all wait until tomorrow, although I warn you - my councillors and I are likely to have many questions indeed. For now, I will have someone see you to a guest room."

"I am in your debt, my Lord," said Líriel, bowing deeply, "Truly, I did not expect such hospitality towards a stranger. These are, as you say, troubled times. I hope I can repay you tomorrow with what I know…", she trailed off and seemed to ponder something. "Before I go, I must ask. How did you know of our coming? We kept a good pace for the entire hike."

"Our forest has many creatures, and some of them are our friends," he said, with a smile, "but we can speak more of this in the morning. Good night, Lady Líriel."

At that moment, an elf appeared at her elbow to show her to her room, and raising her hand to her chest in a parting gesture, she allowed herself to be led away.


	2. Making Acquaintances

Líriel woke early the next morning. She had not slept well. Thoughts of her impending meeting - or interrogation, as she thought of it - had occupied her mind for the entire night.

She had been shown to a room that was somewhat more comfortable than she had expected. It was small, but had an adjoining washroom that appeared to be hers personally. The bed was large and comfortable and the room itself was light and airy. Despite this apparent hospitality, she was well aware that there had been someone standing outside her door all night. _“They are not_ that _trusting then,”_ she thought with a sigh.

She rose and attended her morning rituals in an efficient, methodical manner born of many years of routine. She washed quickly and dressed herself in a light grey tunic and leggings. When she was finished, she took a moment to stop and inspect her appearance in the mirror. She had been right yesterday - her face had suffered too much exposure to the sun for it to blend in smoothly in Rivendell. A lifetime of journeying in Harad would do that to you. Still, there wasn’t much she could do about that. She would just have to hope that they didn't ask too many questions.

She could do something about her hair, on the other hand. Líriel usually wore it tightly bound in a bun on the top of her head, but if what she saw yesterday was anything to go by, loose hair framed by detailed braids was the fashion of choice here. At least that was a style which would suit her long, black hair. Gritting her teeth, she quickly brushed it and wove some simple braids.

Satisfied with her appearance, she opened her pack and inspected the scrolls that she would present to Elrond that day. She could hardly believe that she was about to give valuable information to her master’s enemy, and on his command, no less. She sat down on a comfortable armchair and thought back to that conversation as she had so many times before.

_She was standing at her master’s desk, looking down at a pile of scrolls with a perplexed expression._

_“Has there been some mistake? I know for a fact that at least some of this is accurate.”_

_Sainor laughed with derision. “Have you ever known me to make a mistake? Everything I wrote there is accurate. It has to be, in order for them to trust you. They are far too wise for lying to be worth the risk.”_

_Líriel looked up at him in wonder. “This Man must be an exceptionally valuable target for it to be worth trading secrets of this magnitude for him.”_

_Sainor rounded on her sharply. “His worth, or lack of it, is of no concern to you. You would follow my command were he even the weakest son of the most wretched peasant. Don’t waste your time and my own with such stupid questions. Now leave me. You may pass the time committing the contents of those papers to memory.”_

Líriel turned his words over and over in her head. She knew very little about her target, save that he was a formidable warrior and took many names. _Strider. Aragorn_. Whatever Sainor said, this Man was obviously much more than just a feared warrior. The Eldar had many such warriors, but she had never been sent to their cities to murder one of them. Indeed, the mere fact that he had been permitted to live amongst the Eldar was strong evidence that he was very special indeed. _“As long as his uniqueness hasn’t made him immune to my poisons, it shouldn’t make a difference to me either way,”_ she thought dryly.

She was interrupted from these thoughts by a knock at the door. Glancing outside, she saw that the sun still had not risen.

 _“I must credit them for being eager.”_ Taking a deep breath, she gathered her scrolls and opened the door. On the other side stood an elf she took to be a guard, since he was garbed similarly to the elves she had met in the forest the day before.

“ _Aur vaer_ , my lady. My name is Folwin. I am one of the Lord Elrond’s guard. He bids me express his regrets for summoning you so early in the morning, but he feels the matters you have to discuss cannot wait. Although, I see you were already prepared… ” he trailed off, taking in her appearance.

“I anticipated that I would be summoned early.”

“So I see. My lord also asks that you leave your weapons in your room for the duration of your visit. You are as yet still a stranger to us, and only members of the guard bear arms in Imladris. But perhaps, you anticipated this also?”

She gestured towards her swords and bow sitting neatly in the corner of her room.

“I did.” They didn’t need to know about the knives she had concealed in her boots.

“Indeed. Well then, if you would follow me…”

As she followed the guard, she was very careful to take note of every corridor and courtyard they passed through. Learning as much as she could about the layout of Imladris was crucial to her task - if she wished to survive it, in any case. Folwin took the gaze she cast on her surroundings as innocent interest, and he began to relate the history of each building they passed. She played the role of history enthusiast with relish, happy to be given an easy explanation for her behaviour.

Rivendell was extremely pleasing to the eye. She noted with interest that had a much more open layout than she was used to. Many homes had only an archway for an entrance, and between the houses were scattered many gardens and courtyards that seemed to be for public use. She even saw homes that appeared to lack a roof, their structure being little more than a series of pillars and archways surrounding a square.

“I assume it doesn’t rain much here,” she remarked in an amused voice to Folwin, gesturing to one such home.

He smiled at her. “You’re correct in that assumption. I believe it has something to do with the magic of the place, although you’ll have to ask someone else if you wish to know more about that. The lore surrounding the power of Imladris is not my area of expertise. Anyway, it is here that I must leave you, my Lady.”

He gestured in front of them and she saw that they were approaching an archway, watched over by two guards.

“The Lord Elrond awaits you there. If you wish it, I could show you more of our city later, after lunch. My shift ends then. Imladris has many things to see, and it would be my pleasure to acquaint you with them.”

What an opportunity! She fought back her excitement and carefully arranged her face into an expression of mild enthusiasm.

“I’m sure I would enjoy that,” she said with a smile. “How will I know where to find you?”

“I can meet you in the dining halls at lunch. I’m sure someone will show you there after your meeting with Elrond is concluded. Until then, my Lady.”

Folwin bowed and took his leave. Líriel was left standing outside an archway, and on the other side lay the biggest test of her life. She glanced down at her chest and thought of the necklace that lay hidden there. She could feel heat radiating from it at all times - not a comforting, heartening warmth, but a sharp, focused heat, as if to remind her that it could burn her irreparably at any time.

She thought of the last thing her master had said.

_“Do not disappoint me.”_

“ _As if I have a choice,”_ she thought to herself. She stilled for a second and carefully cleared her mind as Sainor had taught her. She would need to keep her thoughts under control if she was not to be discovered.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the archway. 

* * *

 Líriel sat on an ornately carved oaken seat. In front of her was a desk made in a similar fashion. Opposite her, sat the Lord Elrond, with his sons sitting on either side of him.

They’d already gone through the things she’d mentioned yesterday again - that she was from Firien Wood, that she lived there with a dozen others, that she had information about movements in Mordor. They wanted much more detail about all aspects of her history. This was the most difficult part for her - making sure that she kept her story the same as before. Inconsistencies would definitely raise suspicion. She kept in mind the advice that Sainor had given her for another mission many centuries ago.

_“Don’t say more than you need to. The more you tell them, the more you will need to remember later. Of course, you must also give them as much information as they need to trust you. It is a fine line, and you must not end up on either side of it.”_

_“Somewhat easier said than done,”_ she reflected. She seemed to have passed their test though, for now they had moved on. Elrond and his sons were currently occupied with inspecting Líriels scrolls.

“You say orc activity has been increasing?” said Elrond, glancing over at her.

“Yes, although I’m sure you’re already aware of that. The numbers you have there tell you what we have estimated the size of their troops to be.  And it’s not just orcs - they have plenty of corsairs from Harad and mercenaries from Rhûn. On top of that, they have some new weapons we have never seen before. On one of those scrolls you’ll find some sketches and descriptions of how they work. Mostly things that produce fire - and strange explosions. We don’t quite understand how they all work, but we did our best to reproduce them on parchment, in the hope that you might make more sense of them.”

The Rivendell elves stirred with unease.

“Weapons that produce fire?” said Elrohir, concern written on his face.

“Yes, I believe they use some kind of tar and a pumping mechanism to produce flames that can be directed. It is quite deadly. There is a lot more information in those scrolls about these things, and others. Those papers can tell you more than I can - everyone in our community contributed what they know and have seen.”

The twins began murmuring to each other. This news about weapons of fire was apparently deeply unsettling. Elrond returned to his seat and observed her with interest.

“This information is very valuable to us, as I expect you realise. My councillors and I will review your documents carefully over the next few days. Then, perhaps we can reconvene and discuss any questions we may have about what we learn.”

“It shall be as you wish, my Lord,” she said, with a respectful bow of her head.

“Good. I should like to learn more about your settlement, but we do not need to discuss that at this council. After speaking with you today, I am satisfied that you aren’t a threat to our city. You have done us a valuable service, and you may remain here as my personal guest. You may explore Imladris as you wish, and you are free to join us in the dining halls for your meals. Whilst you are here, feel free to visit our library and speak with our archivists if you would like to learn more about our city, or indeed your own heritage.”

Líriel was almost at a loss for words. This level of hospitality was far beyond anything she had expected - it was certainly not as Sainor had led her to believe. She fought to control her reactions. It would be strange to show such surprise at this kindness.

“I am honored, my Lord. I must confess, I have dreamed for many years of one day seeing the white halls of Imladris. I hope you find the information I provided to be of some use. Perhaps when you have analysed them to your satisfaction, you might also advise me on some matters regarding the situation in the Firien Wood. We would be very grateful to receive any counsel you are willing to give.”

Elrond smiled grimly.

“Certainly, although as I remarked yesterday, I fear that I will not be able to give you as happy tidings as I would like. I will let you know when we are ready to reconvene. For now, I think we can adjourn this council.”

Elrond and his sons rose. Líriel stood awkwardly, unsure of her next move. As she turned to leave, a hand suddenly grabbed her by the elbow, and she turned to find Elrohir smiling at her.

“i! I hope all of this was not too tiring for you. You must be hungry, I doubt you had time to eat breakfast - I didn’t at least. Will you accompany me to lunch?”

Over her other shoulder came a sardonic voice.

“Why on Arda would she go to lunch with you, brother? Most ladies prefer ellyn that don’t drool on themselves as they eat.”

She turned to find Elladan standing by her other side.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Elladan of Imladris, son of Elrond and, unfortunately, brother to this poor specimen.” He gestured towards Elrohir languidly. “Forgive me for not introducing myself yesterday eve. You seemed in need of rest. Please allow me the pleasure of accompanying you to dine. It will be a far more enjoyable experience than dining with my brother, I assure you.”

In spite of herself, Líriel laughed. Elrohir looked displeased, but his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“Why don’t you both accompany me to lunch? You never know, perhaps you can resolve these differences,” she said, with an amused smile.

Elrohir gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Well, if the lady wishes it… you are my father’s honoured guest after all. I suppose you will see for yourself which of us is the gentleman and which is the brute.”

Elladan snorted. “I should think it will take about five seconds for her to figure that out.”

Líriel had not expected elves to be particularly humorous. But these two seemed playful, and willing to make her acquaintance to boot. Perhaps that could be turned to her advantage.

“Now, now, let’s keep it civil,” said Líriel with a teasing smile. “Why don’t you show me to these dining halls before you continue bickering? I’m famished.”

“As the lady says,” said Elladan gallantly, taking her arm. His brother took her other arm and they proceeded towards the dining hall, ribbing each other gently all the way.

This at once both pleasing and troubling for Líriel. On the one hand, flirty young men could be very advantageous to be acquainted with. She had utilised not a small number of them before. On the other hand, these elves were turning out to be more and more the opposite of what Sainor described - they were supposed to be cold and arrogant, little better than Men, and yet all she had seen thus far was kindness and hospitality. And that was rare indeed for Líriel to experience. It made her uneasy.

Lunch passed by quickly. The twins were very friendly, if energetic. They kept her entertained with stories of each others’ mistakes. Against all odds, she found herself relaxing. It was rare to meet people that were exactly what they seemed to be. Usually friendliness was just a veneer to hide something more malicious, but she could detect no hostility from either of them. It was refreshing.

As she was finishing the last of her soup, Elrohir offered to show her around the city. Elladan made to interrupt, but she raised her hand and silenced both of them.

“Before you start arguing again - I’m afraid I’ve already made plans to see the city with somebody else.” said Líriel with amusement. “I’m afraid you’ll both just have to find something else to fight over this afternoon.”

They both feigned great hurt.

“Alas! My lady has already had her affections stolen by another,” cried Elrohir, hand over his heart.

“As if they were ever going to be given to you in the first place,” remarked Elladan dryly. “Besides, unlike you, dearest sibling, I am not afraid of a little competition. Comparisons with others can only end favourably for me. Who is this one you are meeting, anyway?”

Before Líriel could reply, the elf in question appeared at her shoulder. He nodded towards the brothers.

“Elladan, Elrohir… well met,” Folwin said smoothly, before turning to Líriel. “Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, with a bow.

Líriel rose immediately.

“Good afternoon. Would you like to go now? I’m finished here.”

“Of course.” Folwin offered Líriel his arm, and after saying farewell to the twins, they left the hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review! I'm also looking for a beta reader, let me know if you'd be interested! I can betaread your fic in return :)


	3. Friends

The next few days passed frustratingly uneventfully for Líriel. She spent the time exploring the city with a keen eye. Occasionally she was joined by the twins or Folwin. She used these opportunities to collect more information - for instance, she discovered that there was only one entrance to the city. This revelation did not please her. It would make her escape much more difficult.

To add to her frustrations, she still had no idea where her target was. As far as she could tell, there were no Men in Rivendell. It was baffling. She had been assured, several times, that she would find this  _Strider_  here. And Sainor was never wrong. As of yet she had no other leads, so, she concluded with irritation, the only thing to do was spend her time preparing.

"Despite all this, she reflected, it wasn't exactly unpleasant, having a reason to stay in Imladris longer. The elves she had met were all really quite pleasant. She had even spent an evening discussing her "home" with Elrond over dinner. He was so kind that, for the first time in her life, telling lies made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.

She couldn't wait to be done with her task so that she could leave this place and be done with these conflicting feelings. It wasn't as if she had any choice any way. The ever present chain around her neck made it impossible to forget that.  _Kill or be killed_. An easy choice to make.

* * *

 

One afternoon, whilst entering the library, she bumped into something completely unexpected. As she walked through the door, someone else walked out, and she literally walked into him.

" _Not that I could be faulted for that_ ," she reflected with amusement later on. For this library visitor was a halfling, and barely half her height at that. She didn't see him at all.

The collision caused the halfling to drop the papers and books he was carrying. As he bent over to pick them up, she could only stand there in disbelief.

Belatedly, she remembered the comment that Elrohir had made on her first day, about Elrond having a halfling for a guest. At the time she'd been too busy with other thoughts to give much time to that fact and now, confronted with the halfling himself, she found herself speechless.

"If you're going to knock me over, you could at least help me to retrieve my belongings afterwards, girl," came a voice from below.

"I - yes - indeed - I mean, forgive me," she said, trying to reign in her shock, "I was merely surprised. One does not expect to find a halfling in the halls of Imladris."

She quickly gathered the rest of the papers and handed them to the halfling.

He looked up at her. "I thought everyone living here knew about me by now - oh, but I see you're new here. You arrived the other day, didn't you? Yes, yes, I saw you. And for reference, my folk prefer to be called hobbits." He held out his hand. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, pleased to meet you."

All of this was said in perfect Sindarin. Líriel was fascinated. She took his hand and shook it. "I am Líriel of the Firien Wood. Forgive my ignorance, I know very little about folk other than my own, but I should like to hear more about - hobbits, if you would like to tell me. Are you going somewhere? Can I carry those books for you? It's the least I can do after walking into you like that."

Bilbo handed the books to her without a second thought and immediately headed off down the corridor. Líriel followed him.

"I was just heading to my rooms. I usually eat my lunch there, I don't often feel like joining the others in the dining hall. Why don't you join me? It's not often you meet elves as friendly as you. Your kind are usually very stand-offish, oh yes indeed. Oh they tolerate me, even respect me in their way, but even so, elves on the whole have a hard time talking with folk from outside their own race. Tell me, do you live up to your name? I've got a song or two I've not had the chance to share with anyone yet, and I'd be glad of someone to perform them for me. I don't have the voice for it, of course. I'll show you them over lunch. I'll let them know that I have a guest."

Líriel could barely conceal her amusement. She hadn't even had to accept his invitation to lunch, he'd simply assumed it and moved on to the next topic. For a mortal to speak Sindarin, to even pick up on the fact that her name meant "song" - that was extremely intriguing. She would definitely enjoy spending time with him. And, the thought arose in the back of her mind, perhaps he could prove useful.

"I've been told that I'm a competent singer, although I doubt I match the singers of Rivendell," she told him, "I can try your songs for you if you like. I do owe you, after all."

"Good, good, that's settled then," said the hobbit. Just then they walked past a girl who looked to be a maid, and Bilbo stopped her and told her to tell the kitchens that he would be having a guest to lunch. The girl nodded and hurried away. As she departed, Bilbo called after her, "And tell them to bring us some tea!"

"Excellent," said Bilbo, rubbing his hands, "They feed me very well, you know. Yes, very well indeed, and I wouldn't be surprised if they throw in something a little extra since I'm having a guest, they usually do. Well, here are my quarters!" And he opened the door into a large living room.

Líriel entered and looked around with interest. The room was covered in books and scrolls. Against one wall stood a desk that was hobbit-sized. The floor around it was covered in crumpled up parchment. On the opposite side of the room were large glass doors that opened onto a balcony. The room was beautifully decorated. It was obvious that the elves of Imladris held Bilbo in high accord, whatever he might think. His living room alone was three times the size of Líriel's sleeping quarters, and there was a door that she assumed led to a bedroom.

"You can put the books over there," said Bilbo whilst indicating a bookshelf, "and then sit down my girl, and tell me all about yourself. I'm always looking to hear about other lands - in fact, I've done my fair share of travelling myself - you might have heard of it."

"I'm afraid not," said Líriel diplomatically, as she sat on a sofa facing Bilbo. "I haven't spoken much with anyone here about about anything in particular - otherwise, I'm sure they would have told me about you. But there, that means you can tell me yourself, which will surely be more enjoyable for me."

"All in good time my dear, all in good time," said Bilbo unhurriedly, "First you must tell me all about yourself, and why you came to Imladris, and about the others where you live. Maybe I'll get some new material for my book - but more about that later." He waved at her, and she understood that it was her turn to talk. Once again, she found herself feeling conflicted about lying to someone that seemed so kind. Every aspect of this mission was turning out to be horribly complicated.

She bravely related to him most of the things she had told Elrond. Bilbo listened with interest, interrupting frequently to ask questions. At some point a maid arrived with tea and cakes, and some time after that several maids arrived with a large lunch spread.

The time flew by quickly. After Bilbo was satisfied with her accounting of herself, he began showing her various poems and songs he had written. She sang a few of his songs for him, and he declared her to be "exquisite". This came as a relief for Líriel, for she had very little experience of singing for others, and she knew that amongst elves, singing came as naturally as breathing. Sainor had taught her some of their most popular songs just in case, but she hoped to avoid being put to the test.

All in all, the halfling (" _or hobbit,"_ she correct herself mentally) turned out to be completely delightful. When they were done with his songs, they turned to the topic of his travels, and she spent the rest of the evening listening to stories about killing dragons and fighting alongside dwarves. The hobbit was so open and welcoming that it was impossible not to like him. At length he appeared to become weary, and she took her leave, but not before he made her promise that she would return to hear the rest of his stories the next day.

The next few days passed in a similar manner. In addition to her previous activities, she now added lunch every day with the hobbit. Occasionally they ate in the dining hall, but for the most part they found themselves in Bilbo's quarters, often eating outdoors on his balcony. This suited Líriel just fine. When she ate in the dining hall alone, she was forced to contend with the curious stares of everyone around her. Apart from the twins and Folwin, no one else seemed much interested in talking to her. People were unfailingly polite, but also reserved.

As each day went by, her liking of her acquaintances grew more and more. Elrohir and Elladan amused her greatly, and Folwin was always charming. Bilbo was simply a treasure. One day she caught herself referring to him mentally as a friend, and it was then she realised that things were going too far. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted from her mission. Her necklace kept her aware of that.

She spent her time in mounting frustration. At this point she had gained all the information she was likely to be able to gather, and she found herself at a loss. She had zero leads. Bilbo had not known anything about a Man living in Rivendell. She couldn't leave, yet staying was fraught with difficulties of its own. She resolved to spend less time talking to others. She couldn't learn anything more from them, anyway, and being attached to them would just make things complicated later on.

She just longed for something to happen that would get things moving.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long. One evening, Líriel arrived at the dining hall to find it a hive of activity. The place was buzzing. Beside Elrond at the high table sat an old man with a long, white beard. Líriel considered for a second if this could be the one she was searching for, but quickly dismissed it. He didn't look anything like a powerful warrior.

The elves in the hall seemed to be very interested in the arrival of this man, as heads turned often to look at him. As she walked past full tables, she heard snatches of conversation.

"-  _they say Saruman has turned traitor -_ "

"-  _even Glorfindel has joined the search -"_

" _\- the Black Riders are abroad -"_

At that last titbit, Líriel forced herself to suppress a shiver. The Nazgûl were one of the few things that held the power to scare her. She had absolutely no idea what they were doing near Rivendell, but in any case it meant that things were happening, which meant that she might be able to complete her mission soon. The thought brought with it a twinge of reluctance.

The twins were meant to meet her here, but she couldn't find them. In the end, she sat at an empty seat and as she did so, she caught the tail end of another sentence.

" _\- that's why Mithrandir is here."_

She froze. Mithrandir is here? She looked up again at the man sitting next to Elrond. If Mithrandir was in Rivendell, then this old man must be him. That was a terrifying turn of events. She would rather face two Nazgûl at once than deal with an Istar. She had no idea if the tricks Sainor had taught her for cloaking her mind would work on a wizard. And she hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

The only solution was to maintain as low a profile as possible and hopefully escape his notice. Hurriedly, she got up and left the hall.

Could things possibly get any more difficult?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please review!


	4. Internal Conflict

Líriel did not sleep that night. She sat still, cross-legged on the floor, meditating for hours. Never before had she encountered such difficulties in completing a mission. Sainor had warned her that this would be difficult, that she would need to bring to bear all of her considerable experience and training, and more, but the situation had still managed to exceed all of her worst expectations. She had still seen no sign of her target, and now, as if things weren’t confusing enough, an Istar had decided to make an appearance.

She turned the facts of the situation over and over in her head. Was Mithrandir arrival related to her own? No, that seemed unlikely. Elrond and his sons seemed to find her perfectly unsuspicious. Surely, if they had summoned Mithrandir in order to investigate her, they would not have allowed her such free reign of the city. Was Mithrandir’s arrival related to this _Strider_ , then? That was a possibility, although Líriel could not see how the two things could be related.

All said and done, her ruminations brought her very little comfort. Líriel had never felt so alone and exposed, and she was one who was used to solitude. The night passed slowly.

* * *

 

The next morning she disturbed early by knocking at her door. It was Folwin.

“My Lord desires your presence,” he said. He looked worn.

“Does something trouble you, friend?” she asked him, as they walked towards the courtyard where she had met Elrond before.

“Thank you for your concern, my lady, but I am merely weary. I have had some difficult shifts these past few days.”

Folwin glanced at the elf beside him and sighed. “If I was to speak more freely… troubling things are afoot. But I cannot speak more of them, at least not yet.”

“I understand. Have no fear; I would not ask you to shirk your duties. I hoped only to help you, if I was able. You have been very kind to me since I arrived here, and I would like to repay you somehow.”

Folwin smiled at this. “Your company has been thanks enough. And sadly, I’m afraid I must leave you here. You remember the path we took before?”

She nodded in confirmation and he bowed to her before taking his leave. She walked the rest of the way to Elrond’s chambers with some trepidation and arrived there to find that there were only two people present. Elrond and Mithrandir.

_At least I was wise enough to prepare for this._

As she entered the small courtyard, she bowed respectfully to the both of them.

“I am at your service, my lord.”

Elrond greeted her with a nod.

“Good morning, child. I am sorry to have to summon you so early once again, but events have pressed my hand. I don’t know if you recognise my guest?”

Líriel kept her face blank. “I’m afraid I do not, my lord.”

Mithrandir broke in.

“My name is Gandalf, or Mithrandir as your people know me. Does that mean anything to you?”

Líriel nodded and immediately bowed deeply.

“Good! That will save me a lot of explaining, and I’m sure you understand that a wizard’s time is very valuable indeed. Come come, let us not stand on ceremony! I’ve been told that you are the one who provided us with those fascinating papers Elrond showed me. I’d like to discuss some things with you. Come, sit,” he said, indicating the seat beside him.

Líriel took her place. This wizard was a lot warmer than she had expected. He seemed more like a friendly old man than one of the most powerful beings in existence.

“ _I must not allow him to trick me into feeling comfortable_ ,” she reminded herself.

Elrond busied himself with serving her a cup of tea whilst Mithrandir began talking.

“Elrond tells me that you’re from the Firien Wood. That is further from Mordor than Minas Tirith, and yet you are in possession of information that Gondor is not. Tell me, how did that come to be?”

“I am from the Firien Wood, but most of my people are not. We are not so much a community, as much as we are a collection of hermits and travellers. Most of us live in small groups of only two or three people. Until recently, years could go by without seeing another elf. When the orc activity around Mordor began increasing, we were more or less forced to band together, in order to protect ourselves. But many of our group lived in the forests of Ithilien before then. More recently, we took it upon ourselves to learn as much as we could about the enemy, in order to better defend ourselves. As for us having more information than Minas Tirith… mortals lack subtlety. They travel in large groups and make too much noise. It doesn’t surprise me that they haven’t been able to get close enough to get the information we have. They would be discovered and killed immediately.”

To her surprise, Gandalf laughed heartily. _Wizards experience amusement?_  

“I know what you speak of. But you would do well to not underestimate mortals. They can surprise you in the most unexpected situations, believe me. Now tell me, when your people were gathering this information, how involved were you in this? What do you know personally of Mordor?”

Líriel eyed him dubiously. She wasn’t sure how much to reveal of what she knew about Mordor. In truth, she knew a great deal, probably more than any elf besides Sainor, but she had no reason to help them in this area. Yet… she had no real reason to not help them either. What did it matter to her if the Dark Lord suffered from this? She wouldn’t be directly breaking her oath. Her blood bond required merely that she completed tasks that Sainor set for her, it said nothing about loyalty to Sauron. And the more she saw of these people, the more she began to realise that she was working for the wrong side. Not that it took much to convince her of that.

She took a deep breath. “I was one of those most involved in scouting. That is part of why I was chosen to travel here. I’ve seen parts of Mordor that I would wager few others have - at least if we disregard orcs and mercenaries. What do you wish to know?”

This seemed to pique the wizard’s curiosity. “You’re telling me that you’ve been inside of Mordor? How did that come to pass?”

Líriel relaxed. Here she was on solid ground. For once, she wouldn’t have to lie.

“The mountain range that surrounds Mordor is long, too long for even Sauron to watch every inch of it. There existed caves that allow you to pass, although I can’t imagine any reason anyone would want to do that.”

Elrond and Mithrandir were both staring at her with undisguised interest. Elrond spoke first.

“Existed? You mean to say that these caves have been destroyed?”

“Not destroyed - but as the Dark Lord’s power has grown, many of these ways have been discovered and are now guarded.” She didn’t add that this was accomplished under her direction.

“You said ‘many of these ways’ - are there any that aren’t yet guarded?,” broke in Mithrandir.

Líriel took a moment to think about this. “At this point, I doubt it very much. When I left Gondor, the Dark Lord’s army was increasing in size at an alarming rate. By now all of these paths must have been discovered. It would be pure madness to attempt to enter Mordor at this juncture. You would have to be suicidal.”

Elrond and Gandalf nodded thoughtfully and glanced at each other. Suddenly, Gandalf leaned forwards and patted her on the shoulder.

“Well now, it is good of you to tell us this my girl, even if it isn’t what I was hoping to hear. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that the topic of this conversation must not leave this room.”

“I understand. I will not speak of this to anyone,” said Líriel with a nod.

“Good! Well, I think that is everything for now. I’m sure you’re very hungry, if you hurry you might still be able to get breakfast.”

Líriel took this to be the dismissal that it was, and bowing again to the both of them, she left them to their discussions.

* * *

 

She spent the walk to the dining hall in deep thought, and arrived to find it almost empty. She was almost immediately interrupted in her thoughts by Bilbo’s voice calling out to her. Líriel frowned. It was extremely rare for him to break his fast in the main hall, and he had called to her in the Common language.

She turned to find him waving her over frantically.

“Over here my girl! I was hoping to find you here! I’ve got some guests I’d like you to meet!”

Sitting opposite him at a long table were three hobbits, and - a Man. Líriel was dumbfounded, but quickly made her way over and bowed respectfully to the four of them.

“Oh there’s no need for formality here, my dear! This is Peregrin Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck - you’ll remember I told you all about the Brandybucks, of course, good friends of mine - and this here is Samwise Gamgee!” He gestured to each of the hobbits in turn and Líriel took in their appearance. They were all much younger than Bilbo and they all looked weary and distracted. Nevertheless, they all each bowed in turn as Bilbo introduced them.

“I believe you forgot to introduce me to your fourth guest,” she prompted.

“Oh of course, I’m sorry my dear, so much going on as I’m sure you know - I’d quite lose my head if it wasn’t for Gandalf, and my friend, Strider, here.”

Líriel hastily forced down her reaction to this sudden news. _Could it really be so easy? He falls into my lap, just like that?_

Strider rose and bowed cordially. “Well met, my lady.”

“Well met!” she forced out, in what she hoped was a gracious voice. “What brings you all to Rivendell? Bilbo did not mention that he was expecting guests.”

Strider nodded as he began to dig into his food. “No, we weren’t able to send word of our coming. As for our reasons for being here - one of our friends was injured, and we brought him here for healing. Lord Elrond is one of the best healers in Middle Earth.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. How fares your friend?”

“I cannot say at this time. It’s too early to make a judgement, but I hope that he will recover. His spirit is strong.”

“You can say that again!” broke in Samwise vehemently.

The other two hobbits nodded, but said nothing. They all seemed weary and distracted. It was obvious to her that she was intruding at a difficult time, although Bilbo seemed quite oblivious to it. She rose.

“Well, I will leave you all to your breakfast. I can see that you’re very weary. Perhaps I can make your acquaintance - all of you, when you’re rested and your friend is faring better.”

As she left the dining hall, she heard the sounds of a crowd coming from just around corner. She followed the source of the noise and found a large mass of elves crowding around the courtyard that marked the entrance to Rivendell. The objects of their attention were a group of strangers on horseback that appeared to have just arrived. And - as Líriel marked with interest - these strangers were men. “ _The place is dead for days, and then with no warning it becomes alive with activity. Just my luck._ ” she thought dryly. She wanted to investigate the arrival of these Men more, but she could hardly go up to them in front of this large crowd, and besides, she needed time to think about the other developments she’d discovered that morning.

She returned to her room and did what she always did when she had a lot to think about - meditation. She positioned herself carefully on the floor, legs crossed, and began to rewind and sort through all of the events that day in her mind. _Why did Mithrandir want to know about entering Mordor? Why did Strider arrive with a group of hobbits, and how did their friend get injured? And why are those other men here? Are they with Strider? Does this have to do with what Folwin was worried about?_

“ _Can I even obtain the answers to these questions without raising suspicion?,_ ” she pondered. And another thought rose unbidden in her mind: “ _Does it even matter? I can just kill him and be done with it._ ”

Strangely, Líriel found herself suddenly reluctant to hurry on with her task. For the first time in her long life, she’d actually made friends, at least friends of a sort. She’d known them too briefly to be close, but still, this contact was far closer than anything she’d ever had with anyone before. “Even though our entire friendship is founded on lies,” she chastised herself.

She pictured Bilbo and Elrohir and Elladan and Folwin and imagined how they would react if they found out what she really was. Revulsion. Loathing. She’d known them only a short time and already knew that they would find her actions utterly reprehensible. They had shown Líriel such kindness since she’d arrived in Rivendell and they had accepted her completely as what she said she was. They’d even thanked her for going to such great lengths to help them. It was obvious to her that they’d never have any understanding for what she’d done.

Unconsciously, her hands reached up and withdrew her necklace from where it hid underneath her tunic. She stared at it in frustration. To think that such a small object could be the only thing that stood between her and freedom. If she ever broke her oath, if she ever gave up on her task - then her life would be over, the necklace would see to that, and - given her multitude of sins - it wasn’t likely that she would be allowed passage to Valinor either.

“ _What worth does my life even have?_ ” she asked herself. “ _If I survive this - if I kill the Man and return to Harad - then I will just be sent to kill another Man, and then another. It will never end. I will never be free._ ”

“ _Am I willing to give my life for that of a complete stranger?_ ,” she wondered, for the first time in her life. The fact that she was even willing to countenance the question shocked her. But then - all those she had killed before had been little better than murderers themselves. The tribal chieftains of Harad and Rhûn were just as bloodthirsty and maniacal as any orc. The folk she had met in Rivendell were completely different - they were kind, and trusting, and she realised instinctively that any of the people she’d met - Elrohir or Elladan or anyone else - any of them would be willing to trade their lives for another.

“ _So I’m a coward, then,_ ” she thought grimly. That wasn't a new thought at least. She knew that she was a coward and had long ago accepted it, reasoning that a coward’s life was worth just as much as any of the barbarians she’d been made to kill.

“ _At least I don’t have to make any decisions today. I don’t even know where Strider sleeps, and I still haven’t made a plan for escaping the city. It would be premature to take any actions now_ ,” she told herself. She clung onto this thought. Whatever she felt for these strangers, she wasn’t ready to give up on her own life yet, and planning would buy her some time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review if you have any thoughts <3


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